


Shut Up, Luke.

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Muke - Freeform, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael didn't think Luke would take a joke to heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up, Luke.

Luke looked in mirror, pulling on the skin on his cheeks. Why did he have so many pimples? What was God punishing him for? For being sad? For drinking when he's sad? For not eating right when he's sad? Or for ignoring everybody in his life when he's sad? Or all. He felt like such a fuck up.

Ever since coming home to Australia, people online had started rumors about him and every other girl he glances at. He and Calum had gone to parties which just caused more drama. And then mixed in with the fans saying how disappointed in him they were and what not, the usual hate had sky rocketed, because that's what usually happens when drama sparks in the fandom.

Now the weight of worry that he was too skinny or too fat or too drunk or too young and too pimply and too....it all crushed him. It weighed his chest to his stomach, causing him to slouch when he would stand, and whimper when he lay. The mental and emotional strain from reading these things and seeing them in the mirror made Luke roll into a ball like figure on the unmade bed in his childhood bedroom and cry himself dry- literally. He cried till there were no tears, just sounds, escaping his body. His chest rising and falling in a painful wheeze.

Luke's phone laid on the floor, overloaded with texts and missed calls and emails from everybody. Calum, Ashton, John, management, his brothers, and Michael. Michael had left 50 of the 97 missed calls, 148 of the 256 of the unread texts, and a few of the unread emails.

Fuck Michael.  
Michael still hated Luke, he'd say it all the time. He'd say it jokingly but Luke felt the sting, it burned his chest and stuck in his head for night time, when he could (almost) freely cry.

Luke didn't know when he had fallen asleep. But he woke up to something dropping on him gently; a blanket, taking away the shiver. He opened his eyes and squinted to see Michael. Shit.

"Go away."

"Shit, Luke, what is wrong with you? Your eyes are like, black. Did you get in a fight?"

"No, fuck off, Michael," the blonde sneered at the older boy. Michael wore a black beanie and a zip up hoodie. He looked comfortable with himself and Luke hated it.

Michael's eyebrows knitted together as he sat on the bed, "Luke, you look ill. Have you been doing drugs?"

"I wish, it'd sound less pathetic than what I have been doing." Luke meekly sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling the crisp, dried tears in the corners. "Could you just, leave me alone? I don't want to be near you right now."

Michael had a look of hurt across his face and his whole stance changed. "What do you mean? What have you been doing, Luke? What did I fucking do?! I'm sorry, I don't know what for, but please don't be upset at me. I came to make sure you were okay. Nobody's heard from you in 2 days, your mum says you're not eating much, and you only stand to go to the bathroom. What's wrong? Please tell me something-"

"Fuck, Michael, I said to fuck off. Can't you just fucking let me sit here? Can't you see how fucking miserable I am? I can't bear to be anywhere but here right now! Don't you see what they're saying? How much they hate me? How horrible they say I am? I fucking do. God, and I see the way you hate me too. Do you think I'm fucking blind? That I can't feel anything because all of a sudden we've had hits and make money? That, that takes away my fucking emotions? God, can't you see how hurt I am? I can't take it! I want to sit here, in my room, and let myself hurt alone. It hurts less that way, there's nobody to watch me struggle. So shit, please leave me alone, Michael. I don't need you to come in here and tell me to shut up and laugh at me. I don't need you right now or ever. I love you and you hate me, so just leave." He had gone from explosion to whisper, and Michael sat with water forming in his eyes.  
It was quiet for a few moments, nothing but the sound of Luke's tearless cries.

Michael inhaled deeply, as he calmly spoke, "I am going to tell you to shut up, because that's the biggest load of bullshit I've heard. I don't hate you, Luke. I know I say it, but I never mean it. You mean so much to me, damn it. Why do you say these things? Why are you so hard on yourself? Because some kid on the internet says you have bad posture or whatever? What the fuck? You can't sit here and waste away in your own misery. I can't let you treat yourself like this."

"Stop acting like my mother. I'm too old to be babied, so stop. You can't stop me from crying or make me leave my room or make me smile so leave."

Michael stood up sharply and huffed, "fine. Bye, Luke. I love you. Sorry you feel I don't."

The door slammed and Luke felt the sound in his gut. He heard Michael say goodbye to his mother and that was it.

It was the middle of the night and the light of Luke's phone screen burned his head.

From (^._.^)mikey  
1:27 AM  
Luke, i understand hurting, just please don't hurt yourself

1:29 AM  
Eat something before youre sick please

1:30 AM  
I love you, please be safe, i will see you tomorrow

1:32 AM  
Goodnight

He threw his phone on the ground. His hand hung off the bed, shaking. It's incredible how much weight you can lose in 2 days. His fingers were thin and blue from lack of water and food. He feared his reflection. He sat up, coughing, needing to take something for his headache. He limped to the bathroom, opening the cabinet and popping 4 Tylenol into his mouth, dry swallowing. His forehead broke out in sweat, and before he could click what was happening, his knees had hit the floor, his head next to hit the cabinets and his mother's shouts to echo against the walls.

The unrecognizable lights of a hospital ceiling blinded Luke and hurt his head even further.

"Why did you do this, Luke?" His mother whispered to him after doctors had checked on him amd questioned him.

"Because I fuck up, mum. I repulse people and end up hurting myself, it's not the first time."

She softly shook her head, "silly boy. You don't see how much so many people adore you. I know you can't help but hurt, but don't let it get this far. Tell someone."

"Why am I even here?"

"You starved yourself and you dehydrated yourself, Luke." Liz stood from the chair and grabbed her purse, "I have to go pick up your brother and father, but Michael's here. Don't refuse him, please. Goodbye, Lewie, I love you."

Luke refused visitors for 3 hours, claiming he needed time to nap, which he did, and time to reorient his body, which he did.  
When he finally gave into the nagging of his mother's texts, Michael walked in with his head down, his arms acrossed his chest. "Hey, Lukey."

Luke's voice was horse when he spoke, "hi."

"Are you okay?"

"Not really. I've felt more miserable since I got here, they put me on anti depressants."

Michael scooted onto to bed next to Luke and grabbed his hand, careful of the IV.

"I know it's hard, Lukey. I've truly been here, 4 doors down from this room. I know you hurt, and I'm sorry I caused some of it, I honestly didn't mean to. I'm sorry my jokes aren't funny, I never meant to hurt you. But God, please never starve yourself again."

Luke pulled on Michael's hand, rubbing his thumb over the 3 rigged, hidden scars under the fan bracelets he had been given. He felt his cheeks get wet and he looked to Michael with puppy eyes.

"I'm sorry for being horrible to you, Mikey. You're my best friend. I'm so sorry."

Michael gently squeezed Luke's lanky hand, "I know, Lukey, I'm sorry too. I love you, bro."

Luke chuckled roughly, as he hit the dim switch for the lights on the hospital remote. He whispered as the room darkened, "love you too."

\---------

Luke started feelin better, months had passed, they were back on tour and he felt fine. But everyone has their bad days.  
Today was one. 5 interviews, one after another, acoustic performances, and then going over demos in the studio. Luke was having a less than excellent time.  
Its not that he didn't love his job, it was his dream. But, today, he just wanted to be alone, to have nothing but time to cry, instead of forcing laughter and pretending to care what people had to say.

"Luke, are you alright?" Calum whispered. Luke nodded curtly and slouched in his seat in the car.

Their manager talked to them but Luke was too focused on wanting a blanket and a dark room.

From (^._.^)mikey  
4:57 PM  
Luke, are you feeling bad again? Should we just blow them off, say youre sick?

From ♡lukey  
4:58 PM  
I'll be fine mikey

Michael watched on as Luke miserably made his way through the rest of the day. And he watched as Luke slid the key card in the door, threw himself inside and slammed himself onto the bed, breaking down and sobbing into the down comforter.  
He sat next to the crying boy and ran his hand over his cheek.

"Luke," Michael whispered, "how about, you take a quick, warm shower and try and calm down." When the boy didn't respond, Michael stood and walked to the bathroom.

He turned on the bath and filled the tub. He looked up to see Luke standing in the doorway, red eyes and cheeks, stained with tears.

"C'mere, Lukey. Get in the bath."

"Mikey, why do days like these happen?" Luke was laid back in the bath, with his hands on his face.

Michael, sitting on the counter, flipping through a book a fan had given him, looked at Luke with a look of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why do I have these days where everything feels wrong? Where I feel guilty over everything? And I just annoy everybody?"

"You don't annoy everybody, Luke. And bad days happen to everybody. I know you're not fine right now, that's perfectly fine. But days like these happen to make the good days even brighter."

Luke took his hands from his face and looked at the bleach blonde, smiling small, "did you steal that from a Reese Witherspoon movie?"

Michael threw a handsoap at the naked boy and rolled his eyes, "take the message, honey."

"Message taken, honey. You're lucky that soap missed my dick or I would've knocked you out." Luke chuckled softly.

"Feel better?"

"Much. Thank you, Mikey. "

"You're welcome, Luke. It'll all be okay. Someday."


End file.
